Sometime Later
by Mr. Seppuku
Summary: Cid Highwind is enjoying some downtime a few months after The Meteor Incident, travelling around the world with Shera. However, things take an unexpected turn when a member of AVALANCHE drops in on the two during their travelings.


The black satin sky burns with a billion lit lamps. Pinpoits of white in a vast void. They stretch and fade in her lenses, getting caught in white glimmers on her wires. Her eyes snap in a blink. The endless black burns in a perfect circle, surrounded by an iris ocean. The stars get caught and drown in it. She blinks again. The engine grumbles in a low, buzzing purr. The end of his cigar glows to a bright orange, then fades to a somber red. Little lights beam among a panel of flat, stubby buttons and winged levers.

Hours later, the darkness begins to grow fainter as they drive towards the sun. A faint blue begins to emerge, putting out one star after the next. The warm light spills onto the metal floors. A blinding glare blooms around silver corners, and round edges. Cid's eyes narrow as the giant burning ball rises before the ship. A small, turned smirk creases one side of his tanned face. Shera rests with her head against the glass. Earth and water rush below her, broken by a deep sandy jag. The world is a blur, resting against her still, quiet features. Strands of thick brown hair splay out from her head, coiling from the glass. She shuffles her feet.

Hours later, three metal claws jam into a rounded, green surface, releasing a blush of green innards. The claws vanish with its victim. Then it rains back onto the white surface, nabbing two more green victims and again disappears. Shera chews twice and swallows. She washes down her food with a sip of green tea.   
A clank sounds from the opposite room. She stabs another pea, when another clang sounds. Her eyes narrow at the sound, and when it rings out again, Shera sets her fork aside and stands from the table.   
"Cid, did you hear anything?"   
"Huh?"   
"Some kind of clanging noise?"   
"Uh-uh." Shera steps into the hall. _Clang_. She walks back onto the deck.  
"Cid, come here." He turns his head in her direction. He flips a thumb against a switch and follows after her. _Clang_. He frowns, twisting his cigar in his teeth. _Clang_.   
"Ah, shit."   
"What do you think it is?" He stomps down the hall. He puts his ear to the wall. _Clang_. He squats down. He turns his head, looking into a ventilation compartment.   
"What the hell?" he growls.   
"Cid?" a voice from the ventilation shaft. Cid's eyes flare up, he bites down on his cigar. "Fuck. The ventilation shaft's talkin' to me," he murmurs to himself.   
"Cid, oh, good."   
"Ah, shit. I know who that is. What the fuck are you doing in my ventilation shaft, scaring Shera like that?"   
"I wasn't scared."   
"I'll explain, just let me out, alright?"   
"I don't think I will. Spill your guts first." A sigh from the ventilation compartment.   
"Cid, who is it?"   
"A stowaway."   
"Okay, listen. I crawled into here, thinking that maybe I'd need to talk to you later. Ask you for a favor."   
"Well, I guess you don't know me too, well. I don't do favors for Shinra spies, shithead."   
"Cid," Shera scolds. He shoots her a flat, stabbing glare. She diverts her eyes to the metal tile.   
"Well, it was really my only shot of ever getting out of here."   
"Well, if you'd never crawled in there, you wouldn't have to worry about getting out now, would you?"   
"Huh? Wait. No, not here. Midgar."   
"Midgar? You're in Midgar! What in the hell for?"  
"Because-look, I was helping some people get out of this place."   
"Out of Midgar or the ventilation shaft?"   
Sigh. "You know how much easier this conversation would be if you'd let me out of here?" Cid's eyes flatten again. He sticks his cigar back in his mouth.   
"Shera, why don't you grab my toolkit?"   
"Right," she nods, and disappears around the corner. Cid grunts and blows out a roll of smoke. He casts a sidelong glance at the ventilation.   
"So what's it like back there?" silence.   
"A mess. I thought things were bad after the Sector 7 incident, but…"   
"Mmm."   
"Granted, the slums were already a mess. They actually didn't get the worse of it. The upper level divisions, though…yeah, just a mess."   
"Atleast they're alive, right?"   
"Some of them, yeah."

Some time later, Cid slips the flat end of the screwdriver into the final knotch and twists. The nail spins and falls from the last hole, and the covering falls to the floor. Cid gets back on his feet.   
"Alright, you're good to go." A single, red-gloved hand emerges from the hall. It is small, child size, covered in layers of gray dust. Shera draws a gasp. Then another glove, attached to a wrist wrapped in dusty, matted fur. A thin, golden crown, flanked by two pointed ears, leads a lowered, bulbous furry head. Two booted feet push the being into a standing position. The cat looks up into the face of Cid.   
"Thank you," he says. Cid cocks an eyebrow off towards Shera's direction. Cait Sith follows his gaze. Shera raises a hand to her mouth at the sight of his dusty, faded face.   
"How long have you been in there?" she asks.   
"He ain't real Shera, don't have a damn heart attack."   
"What?"   
"He's a walkin' toaster."   
"What?"   
"A robot," clarifies Cait Sith.   
"Oh," replies Shera, still looking a bit confused.

Sometime later, Shera is in one of the side room's of the Highwind, cleaning Cait off.

"So, you're piloting this thing back from Midgar?" Shera asks. She dabs a towel into some standing water, and brings it to his cheek. She rubs it in small, tight circles.   
"Yes. I was afraid that there might be a problem, flipping Cait on after months without use, but, it seems that all the parts have actually held up just fine."   
"Hmm," she rubs the rag over his forehead.   
"It's amazing, the level of detail," she states.   
"Yes, one of the finest devices ever developed by Shinra."   
"Are there any others?"   
"Just the Moogle."   
"What happened to him?" The cat smiles. She draws her hand away, eyes flashing behind her glasses. Cait's smile grows deeper.   
"Sorry." Shera chirps some laughter. She brings the cloth back and runs it across one arm. "I, uhm, couldn't fit him into the ventilation shaft."   
"Right."   
"So I brought him along with me, to Midgar that is."   
"Oh. What does he do?"   
"Occupy the kids. Some lifting." She laughs.   
"Right. I think I remember it. White marshmallowey lookin' thing?"   
"Yeah, that's it. Makes a good ride for the smaller kids." She reaches behind the cat-robot and snatches his tail. She pulls it out straight and runs the rag up to its white tip.   
"How does it look?" Shera grins. "Like a tail." Cait Sith nods.

Sometime later, Shera leads Cait to the main bridge.

"Take a look, Cid." The mountains of Nibelheim, point like shattered, rocky nightmares into the blue sky. Cid tears his eyes away from them. He meets Shera's gaze. She smiles and waves a hand. Cait Sith toddles out. His fur is back to a shining, healthy black and white. His crown glimmers against the sun.   
"We're comin' up on Rocket Town," grunts Cid.  
"What!? We're not going back!" cries Shera. Cid's blue eyes turn flat.  
"Got somethin' else in mind?"   
"Cait needs a ride."   
"He's got a ride if you hadn't noticed."   
"No," Cait clomps towards Cid. He cranes his neck back, staring at the man's sour eyes. "Cid. I need to speak with you," says Cait.   
"Man to man," replies Cid, face unchanged.   
"Something like that," says Cait.   
"Cid, he needs to get out of Midgar. The place is a disaster," Shera. Cid plucks his cigar and taps the end of it. Ashes fall onto the cat's upturned face.   
"Anything else? We could hit Costa Del Sol while we're at it," Cid.   
"Please, Cid." Cait Sith. Cid continues to stare at Shera. She holds his gaze.   
"Turn your cat off," Cid.   
"Cid," Shera shoots.   
"No. I'll do it," Cait Sith looks back at Shera.   
"Cait, don't listen to him."   
"Come again?" growls Cid. "Last I checked, I was captain of this ship. Is it called the Highwind, or was that just my imagination?" Shera crosses her arms, and looks out the window. Cait Sith lowers to a sitting position, then lies on his back and closes his eyes. Cid nudges the small body with his foot.   
"So?" Shera. He glances up at her.   
"Why do you hate him so much?"   
"Guess I'm just a dog person." The two stare at each other, both eyes flat, sharp frowns. Cid takes a deep drag off his cigar. He reaches down and scoops up the limp body of Cait under its armpit. He glares down at it.

Some time later, the cat presses his head against the glass, staring down at the rolling world beneath him. Shera sits cross-legged behind him.   
"I haven't been to Midgar in so long," Shera muses. Cait looks back at her.   
"What was it like when you went there?"   
"Uhm…organized, I guess. Busy. I don't think I was really able to take it all in," she says.   
"You stayed on the upper levels?"   
"Yeah. At the time, I didn't even know about the lower sectors." Silence. "I can remember the first time I saw Shinra Headquarters. The image of it is, just, imprinted on my mind. I'd never seen anything like it. Not until Cid started the rocket project. Still, though, even as gigantic and elaborate as that rocket was, it wasn't Shinra." Cait nods and turns back to the view.   
"Well, even Shinra's not Shinra anymore," Cait Sith.   
"Did Meteor just completely destroy the Headquarters?"   
"No. The structure's still there. Some refugees are even putting it to use. We sent a team up there a few weeks back, just to make sure that the people there were getting adequate supplies, and that they weren't in trapped there, y'know, stuff like that."   
"Right."   
"We were actually able to get to a pretty high floor."   
"Did you get a view of the city?" Cait gives a small laugh.   
"Yeah, actually, we were able to get into my old office. One of the walls is just one huge window. You can see way past the city from there, just barely make out Kalm and the ocean."  
"Geez," she says. Cait smiles at her. The sight of it still unnerves her a little.   
"I came to take it for granted when I worked for Shinra. I know there were days when I wouldn't even take a glance out of it. Seeing it last week though, there were just little pieces of glass sticking out of the corners, and the wind was really rushing in. Meteor must've sucked my desk and drawers out," (laughs) "and the office plants, because the office was pretty much bare. I don't know, I guess someone could've looted it. Anyways, standing there, in that empty room, by myself, before anyone else came with me, that was just...amazing. I wanted to get a good look at the city, see the damage that'd been done, so I came right up to the edge."   
"What was it like?"   
"Everything was completely demolished. Houses with no roofs, no walls, one wall. All sorts of automobiles tossed everywhere. Out in the middle of the street, into houses, on each other. Debris was just everywhere. There was paper, I could make that much out, and some insulation and scrap pieces, but with most of the junk it was just impossible to decipher what was what. But stuff was all over the place."   
"Wow."   
"Yeah, but the weird thing was, I could make out the shapes of people, not a whole lot of them, but some, moving through all that garbage. From my vantage point, they seemed like they were moving with such ease. Seeing that, just made it all the sudden feel kind of normal. The realization of that, gave me one of the strangest feelings I've ever had."   
"Do you still feel that it was that strange?"   
"I don't know" (smiles) "I guess I'd have to go back up there to find out."   
"Maybe you'll get a good look from in here."   
"Yeah, maybe," still holding his smile. He turns to look out the window. Shera's eyes narrow.   
"I think I see it," she says. Cait Sith looks up. In the fading light, a silhouette of jagged edges and collapsed structures jut into the sky. The shattered mass swells and sharpens as the ship draws closer. A tower rises from the wreckage, adorned with shattered glass and unhinged metal workings. Reaching out from the remains is a solid, unmoved arm with no hand, pointing to the sky. A web of criss-crossed steel suspends it in space. As the ship draws closer, Shera realizes that a patchwork of colors is stretching out from the city onto the ground.   
"What's that? Coming out of the city?" she asks. She looks down at Cait Sith. His body has fallen limp against the glass. She reaches out and turns him towards her. His head tilts to one side.   
"Alright, cat, where the hell do I park this damn thing?" Cid.   
"He's out," Shera. Cid glances at her, holding the loose body in her hands.   
"Bring it here." She hesitates for the slightest moment, then walks to Cid and holds Cait out to him. Cid snatches him and brings him to his face. He eyes the robot.   
"This thing gotta switch?"   
"I think he said earlier, that he's outside Sector Three," Shera.   
Cid frowns, "You think, huh?" He hands the cat back to her, then glances out the main window. His frown deepens.   
"What the fuck is all that?" asks Cid. Shera, Cait still in hand, runs over to the window, and looks down. Flooding from the city, as far as the eye can see, is an impossible number of tents. People flow and clog the veins of space provided between them.   
"Tents," she states.   
"Where the fuck are we supposed to land?"

Below on the earth, a face turns up to the sky. Feet stop walking. Groans and complaints rise up, then a few more faces turn up.   
"What is it, man. Never seen an airship before?" someone shouts. More faces turn up, and shouts ring out. People stop walking and raise out their hands. They wave and shout, jumping up and down. The low roll of engine swells as the shining silver body floats closer. The sound of it is nearly drowned out by the cheering and shouting. The airship whips over the crowd. They turn and watch it make a tight turn. Some people shove and wriggle their way in the same direction. The airship shrinks to a single glowing point. Disappointed calls ring out as it fades from view. Still more people push their way towards its direction.

Back on the ship, Cid surveys the scene.

"Beautiful," grunts Cid. As the ship settles over a piece of land, a mob of people coagulate beneath it, many stretching out their arms towards the ship.   
"This is the worst fuckin' idea I have ever partaken in," growls Cid, "and that's sayin' somethin.".   
"They'll get out of the way," Shera. Cid grinds his teeth into his cigar. "No, they won't," snarls Cid. He grips his controls, jams a few switches, then rams down on a lever. The ship's engine flares up. Shera tilts and falls, Cait falls out of her arms.   
The ship cuts an angle. Cid braces himself. The roar of the engine blares, shaking the ship, the passenger and the pilot. The airship turns completely in the opposite direction. People cry out and begin running towards it as it flies from the mass of tents surrounding the city.   
"Cid, what are you doing!" Shera screams out. Her voice is soundless beneath the roar. The ship pulls away from the crowd, now turned towards the sea. Cid pulls up on the lever and dances his fingers on a few other switches and buttons. Shera rolls back as the ship lunges forwards into space. Cid grips the lever, hits more devices, and the airship tilts up. Shera lets out a silent scream as she slides towards the back of the deck, her fall slows as the ship levels out.   
The engine fades, but a high ringing sings in the ears of Cid and Shera.   
"What the fuck is the matter with you!?" her voice is raging and shrill. Her eyes grow wide and round at the sound of her own voice. Her mouth holds open. Cid looks at her. Her eyes flash at his expression, and she turns away. He was smiling, the same crooked smile he always has. But his eyes were dull, rimmed with hurt. Shera looks back at him as the ship bounces with the touchdown on ground. He's staring out the window.   
The masses are tearing there way towards the ship. The growl of the engine grows slower, the kick over of the fan becoming less frequent. Cid flips a few switches and dashes down a corridor.   
"Cid!" Shera cries out. For the second time, she is shocked at the sound of her own voice. The ringing of the engine still jitters in her ears. The crowd stops short of the ship. They stand in a wide circle around it, eyes goggling.

Sometime after, Cid's hands are shaking. The landing stairway descends to the planet. Some people in the crowd turn to look at one another. Others take a few steps back from where they stand. A sharp blade shoots out of the porthole, followed by a man in a blur. His hand grips the side of the stair, and he jumps over the edge. In a scurry, he propels himself towards the crowd. An inhuman scream erupts from him, and soon merges with a torrent of new screams. People shriek off into the opposite direction. Others stumble backwards and follow after. The blurred man, still hollering, turns on his heel, slipping and catching himself with a spare hand. He dives towards another area of the crowd on the opposite side of the ship. They follow the lead of the others. Soon, he has driven away the entire crowd. They recede to a farther distance, but soon stop to look back at the ship and its man. He is a sharp figure, braced against a spear. His head turns time to time to look behind. His chest is heaving. As he eyes the crowd in front of him, a figure slips down the stairs and off into the crowd. A swell of laughter and pointing rises up from the crowd. The man turns and follows their gaze.   
"Shera!" She looks back, and disappears into the crowd.   
Some that have fallen out of his view begin to move towards the ship. His head snaps in their direction. Cid lets out a growl and charges in their direction.

As Shera goes deeper into the crowd of refugees, her feet sink deeper into the mud. Shaggy hair, muddy faces, tattered clothing, tattered tents, and boxes surround her. A low murmur of conversation is constantly punctuated by shouting or laughter. Two women play cards by a tent. A man passes through, with a child on his shoulders. He wears a white T-shirt and a tie. A loud voice calls out to the crowd, with offerings of weapons and items.   
Shera notices a man with a long flat necklace, decorated in various colors of materia. She follows the length of a floating yarn, to see a yellow kite tottering in the sky. In A woman sits with her hand braced under her chin, dirt cracking on one cheek and at the corner of her lips. Shera feels a hand tug in her pocket, then slip out as she takes a step.   
Suddenly, another woman pushes her way through the crowd. Her face looks determined and set. She's heading towards the ship. Her arm's cocked, with a megaphone perched in her hand. Shera steps to the side as the woman blows past her. The mud flies up from her heels.  
Rising from the bumble of moving people is the Headquarters, looming like some fallen, dying Weapon, staring out towards the horizon. A shoulder knocks against Shera's. Her eyes meet a man's who is selling items. She walks towards him. The man leans forward.   
"Can I help you, ma'am?"   
"Yes, have you heard of a…" her voice trails off, realizing that she doesn't know Cait Sith's real name. The man looks at her with a tad bit of impatience.   
"Oh…nevermind." Shera turns back and walks away. She comes to a stop. Another hand wriggles into her pocket, a flutter of fingers, and its gone. She heaves a long sigh, and stares back up at the Headquarters. In a moment, Shera turns and walks away from it.   
As she makes her way back to the ship, a strong voice becomes more clear and begins to drown out the murmurings of the rest of the crowd. At first it is indistinct, but as Shera is able to make out the top of the Highwind, the words begin to take meaning.   
"You sir! Yes, you, in the red shirt. No the other red shirt! Yes, yes you, sir. You are standing too close! Please move away from the airship," command's the voice. As Shera comes near the edge of the crowd, she sees the same woman holding the same megaphone to her mouth. Cid stands beside her, the butt end of his spear planted firmly in the ground. The crowd has grown still, a steady flow of people are returning towards the tents.   
"I repeat, there is nothing to see hear! Return to your daily routine," says the woman. She pulls her mouth away from the megaphone and says something to Cid. He nods. She continues to speak and he continues to nod. Shera slips along the ridge of the crowd. She sees that whatever direction Cid is not looking in, the woman with the megaphone is.   
A hand falls on her shoulder.   
"Shera," says a soft, warm voice. She turns. A man stands before her with a small smile. A mop of hair hangs around his forehead, and unruly growth of beard hangs from his face. He extends a hand. His eyes are large and sensitive.   
"Reeve," he says. Shera takes his hand, looking a bit confused. Then an expression of dawning comprehension comes across her features, and she smiles.   
"Cait!" Reeve nods, his own smile growing. It does not unnerve her.   
"Are you ready?" he asks, releasing her hand. She nods, still smiling. He gives a short, awkward nod in response, then steps past her.   
"Reeve, wait!" cries a voice. The man turns. A woman in a sweater runs forward and collides into him. She wraps her arms around him and plants a kiss on his cheek.   
"Thank you for everything!" she pulls back staring into his eyes. He places his hands on her shoulders and smiles.   
"Take care, Sylvesta," he says, holding her gaze. Shera looks off, to Cid and the megaphone woman having a discussion. Reeve steps away from the woman.   
"Reeve!" a few more voices cry out. More men, women, and children push their way through the crowd. Reeve's smile grows, as he shakes hands, embraces, pats heads. Many plea for him to stay, while others wish him good luck.   
A ball of white takes shape in the crowd. swinging its lengthy arms, the white shape totters its way up to the front of the crowd. A pair of long black, button eyes shine up at Reeve. A triumphant grin marked by two pointed teeth stretches out below the eyes. A slew of hair slings over the Moogle's ear, and the white bulging robot comes to a halt. The hair slings up, trailing a young boy's head as he comes to sit at full height. He is perched easily on the top of the Moogle's head. The boy eyes Reeve and smiles. He reaches into his shirt pocket and draws from it half a stick of gum.   
"Take this." Reeve holds out a hand, and the boy lays it in his palm.   
"When we see each other again, I'll chew my half and you can chew yours," says the boy. Reeve laughs, then nods, putting the stick in his shirt pocket.   
"Thank you," says the boy. A hand takes his shoulder and he lowers, whispering into the Moogle's ear. The white furry robot take a step back to stand with the rest of the others who've come to see Reeve. Reeve runs his eyes over all of them. He crosses his arms, and begins to rub one elbow with his hand. He looks down, nods, then turns away from the group and walks towards the ship. Shera watches him go, feeling that like the others, she too will never see his face again. A deep pit wells up in her stomach.

As the ship rises from the ground, the woman with the megaphone looks upwards. Her hair flows like the ocean, rising up and hiding her face. She, the land, hundreds of other faces begin to sink away. The afternoon light plays on his features. She grips the megaphone at her side. In a moment, she and a thousand others are swept away, then a thousand more blur. Reeve looks up to see that the sun has been cast behind Midgar. The light blinds and burns between the partings and cracks in the standing wreckage. The ruined city is turned into a single contorted silhouette against the exploding light. In a moment, the entire city swells larger, then disappears past the window to reveal the single blazing sun. Cait Sith lies tossed on the deck, his arm flopped over his face and crown. A slender hand slips under his back. The cat's head and limbs dangle when he's lifted from the ground. Shera approaches Reeve, who sits right infront of the window. She holds the cat out to him. He doesn't see her.   
"So where we headed?" growls Cid, at the controls. Reeve's eyes flicker, and he turns to Shera. He gives her a smile and stands up. Reeve turns to face Cid.   
"Yer blockin' my view," says Cid. Reeves takes a side-step. He stands with his hands in his pockets.   
"Do you remember that town where Cloud fell into the Mako?"   
"Shit, that little backwater town?" asks Cid.   
"Yeah."   
Cid frowns, "Right."   
"Thank you, Cid." Cid gives an annoyed groan, and looks back out the window. Reeve stands there for a moment, staring down at the ground. Shera sets Cait Sith down near the window and steps away. Reeve walks towards Cid. Cid continues to look out the window.   
Reeve pulls one hand out from a pocket. He opens his palm to reveal a shining orb of materia.  
"I was wondering if you'd accept this as partial payment," Reeve.  
"Forget it," Cid grunts. "Please, Cid," Reeves holds it a bit closer to Cid's face. Cid glances out of the corner of his eyes at Reeves.   
"No, thank you," Cid says clearly.   
Reeve lowers his eyes and puts the hand back into his pocket. He slinks away back to the window. An endless ocean lies out before him. The crest of the waves catch the flashing light of sunset. For a moment, his mind slips into the water. He stands there, with his hands in his pockets. "I'll go fix dinner," chimes Shera. Neither react to her. She looks from one man to the next, then turns into the corridor.

Sometime later, a plate clinks onto the table. Then another. Shera turns a corner and takes her own seat with a plate. Cid smirks at the scent, then dives in. After a few bites, he draws a deep breath. "Damn, this is some good stuff," a grin stretches across his face.   
"Thank you," Shera says, sitting up a bit higher. Reeve's face is turned to his plate, he gives a small nod   
"Yes, very good." Her smile broadens, and she nods her head. Reeve doesn't see it. For a moment, the three eat. Cid washes down the food with his beverage.   
"So, what're you planning to do once you get to that town, Reeve?" Cid says in a straight, professional tone. Reeve chews and nods, then looks up at Cid.   
"I just plan on relaxing, really. Maybe see if some of the residents there still need help rebuilding."   
"Mm, you seem to be getting pretty good at that. Ever consider getting into the carpentry business?" asks Cid. Shera frowns to hear the traces of sarcasm in Cid's tone. Reeve smiles, "Uhm, no. Not really." Eating resumes. Cid offers Reeve a drink, but Reeve declines.   
"So, you think there's any chance of Shinra rebuilding?" asks Cid.   
Reeve gets another small smile, "Well, besides me, all the other members of the board are dead."   
"Yeah, I know," retorts Cid. He holds a steady glance with Reeve. Shera draws her breath.   
"Are you asking whether or not I intend to resurrect Shinra?" asks Reeve.   
"I'm asking why is the one surviving member of the Shinra board setting up shop in a shithole town that's only distinctive feature is a giant fucking hole that's just teeming with untapped Mako." Blood rushes into Reeves' face. The tendon in his jaw knots. Shera's eyes jump from one face to the other.   
The low role of the engine mumbles through the walls. Reeve bolts upwards. A loud clang. The chair clangs to the ground. Shera jumps. Reeve's eyes flicker to the ground, then back to Cid's sun-bleached eyes. He turns a shoulder, reaches down a wavering hand. It drags the chair up, and releases. The chair's legs rattle and settle into place. Reeve turns and marches out of the room. Cid's eyes lower back to his plate. He sticks his silverware back into food. Shera looks from Cid, back to her own food. For a moment, the two eat in silence.   
"Where do you think we should head next?" Cid asks, raising his eyes up to see Shera. She shakes her head.   
"I hadn't really thought about it…" Cid nods and takes another bite. "Actually, I think I'm tired of running."   
Cid looks up, "Yeah?" Shera nods. Eating resumes.   
"I was hopin' we'd find the Bronco on this trip. I figured if I did, I could load it up and take it back to Rocket Town. Undo whatever damage'd been done."   
Shera nods. "It's a shame that you lost it." Cid nods in agreement, scooping up another mouthful of food. He raises it to his lips, but stops before biting. He opens his mouth a little wider to speak.   
"It's my own damn fault. Too careless," he chomps down on the food. Shera flits her eyes from Cid's face to the food, and takes a bite herself. The two eat.

Hours pass. Reeve stands on the bridge, staring into a pair of long, slanted eyes, surrounded with black and white fur. His eyes look past the face, into his own mind. The grumble of the Highwind engine is muted by the swirl and snatch of his own thoughts. The deck rumbles against his ass, foot, and one half-stretched leg. He absently runs his thumb across the robot's fur.   
"We're here!" barks Cid. Reeve's head snaps over at the pilot's direction. Cid kicks some switches and the ship lurches. Reeve steadies as he gets to his feet. The engine slows. Reeve extends a hand towards his former comrade. Cid eyes it, then takes it. Reeve gives him a small nod. The pilot's grip is a bit too tight to be taken as friendly.   
Shera stands at the far end of the deck. Her interlocked hands are pressed against her own back and the wall. Reeve's eyes raise to meet hers. Cid releases his grip.   
"Goodbye, Shera. Thank you." A small smile touches her face as she nods. Reeve returns it. His large eyes turn away.The churning of the engine grows more rapid. Cid flips a few switches. The smoke rolls from his cigar. The cat lies, dismissed, fallen on the floor. His arms lie flat on the ground, palms spread apart. His tail is caught between his own legs.   
"Cid!" His eyes rise from the panel. She dashes over to the fallen puppet. She scoops it up into her arms, and cradles it. The cat's head rests against her shoulder. Her eyes are as round and large as the glasses she wears.   
"He's forgotten Cait!" Shera grips her arms around the cat and charges down the corridor. The sound of her hurried footsteps echo back into the deck. Cid shakes his head and lowers his eyes. He flips a few more switches.   
"Yeeeah," he says aloud. He adjusts a few more devices. The spinning of the engine grows higher. The vibration in the walls and floor grows greater. His eyes narrow, deciphering the readings on a few more gauges. He glances down, glances up. Makes the appropriate adjustments. Similar moments pass. Cid begins to drum his fingers on the side of the control panel. He glances up. The deck is wide and bare. A slight frown makes his cigar dip. He glances back down, and reaches back to the panel. His fingers tap, twist, flip, turn various nobs and the like. The sound of the roaring engine reverberates throughout the entire ship and inside his own head. He looks up again. No one. He steps away from the control panel and turns down the corridor. The engine growls and rages around him. A high wheeling screech has come into underscore the rest of the ship's activity. Soft flippings and clickings can be heard in the walls.  
The high, clean, sweet smell of long, grass grows stronger as Cid draws closer to the ship's exit. The stairs are lowered, descending into the swaying, sleepy grass. Cid's boots clank against the stairs, then he steps into the cool night air. The breeze falls across his brown, weathered face.   
Cid leans down. A soft, tickling grass falls against his descending arm. The cigar slips from his lips, as he rises from the swimming, stirring grass. He looks into a pair of long, slanted eyes surround black and white fur.   
The man stands, holding the limp cat in one hand's solid grip. The breeze whispers in his ear. His sun-bleached eyes dart, searching the dark landscape. The wind circles and sighs in the vast abyss engulfing Cid. The cat slips from his fingers. The sound of his body colliding with the planet is drowned out by the unending roaring, turning engine. It pierces Cid's eardrums.   
He looks out into the night, his eyes round and afraid. Cid screams a soundless name, sending the veins in his neck to bulge. The engine screams louder. For a moment he stands, drawing in his breath, his eyes still pointed into the black night. The grass sweeps against his legs.   
He raises a foot. Then another. His hands grip the body of the ship. He casts a final glance out into the night. One foot proceeds up a stair, and the other follows. Cid releases his grip. His feet continue to rise, then soon disappear into the ship. The stairs follow them, drawing up into the Highwind.

Sometime later, the grass flattens against the blast of the ship. The robot is tossed by it, sent tumbling into the dark. The artificial light of the ship grows fainter and fainter on the blades of grass. Soon, the dark of the still night rises and overtakes the movements of the grass's swaying, sliding forms. The Highwind grows to a dim speck, then becomes a single glowing light in the night air. It shoots across the stars and soon disappears over the horizon.


End file.
